Summer Cocktail Party

This evening was the annual Summer Cocktail Party and Dinner at the club, which I'd signed up for on a whim not too long ago.

I'd originally planned on wearing the dress I wore to the ROSL ball once again, but on a hot day, at an event that was somehow both "black-tie" and "lounge suit" in terms of dress code, I noticed a strapless purple satin dress in my closet, and decided to go for that instead. I teased my hair up like I'd seen it done in the season finale of the television show "Glee" (I really derive hairstyle inspiration from the strangest sources), and figured I'd hit the right note of "formal, yet not overly so".

As I was walking down the street to the club, I was passed by a chap walking faster than me, but from the back he looked familiar, so I trotted a bit to catch up and check. Indeed it was DJ, who I'd run into just the day before! So I tapped him on the shoulder, but he was listening to his iPod and didn't notice. Hence I had to give him a much harder shove, until he yanked the earbuds out of his ears and looked around in confusion, until he realised it was me and then exclaimed with delight. Although he noted, "I was wondering what on earth was wrong with people in this neighbourhood, that someone keeps shoving me on the shoulder!"

So we chatted a bit as we walked to our respective clubs, as he was going to the RAC whilst I was headed to mine. Admittedly, I was a bit surprised when I had to remind him to go around the block towards my club, and when he didn't slow his pace for me at all. Perhaps he was in a rush, but manners still, right? Oh well, we parted as he dashed off to his club, promising to talk next week at the Traveller's Club.

I arrived at the event, where they had a selection of really interesting cocktails out for everyone to try. I started with a blue martini that was really delicious, if a tad bit strong. I spent most of my time chatting with my friend Doro and her friend Tamsin, who I recognized vaguely, as we'd all been to Magdalene.

Once the cocktail hour ended, Doro and Tamsin went off to watch the Germany vs. Spain World Cup match, whilst I went into dinner.

I found myself seated with a chap on my left who turned out to have very strong opinions on the role of church in society, a nice girl on my right who I talked about travel in England with, and a quite portly chap across from me who I vaguely recognized as having met before.

The meal itself was quite nice, with some seared tuna as a starter, guinea fowl served on silver service for the main, and a chilled strawberry souffle with a "Pimms jelly shot" on the side that was absolutely heavenly.

The one odd thing about the evening, was that there was a chap who was a guest, who kept tapping his glass to get attention, until finally everyone in the entire room was forced to quiet down, and he then proposed a toast to his friends. Odd, definitely a breach of protocol, but everyone just shrugged their shoulders and went back to their meal.

Later on in the meal, after we'd reached the port, the chairman of the club hammered on the table to make everyone be quiet (no tapping of glasses!) and stood up declaring, "The Royal Toast!" Everyone then of course got to their feet, raised their glasses, and in one voice declared, "To the Queen!" Then we sat down, as the chairman then gave a short little speech, thanking the head bartender, the chef, and the staff who had organized everything, and after each person there was much clapping, banging on the tables, and calls of "Hear, hear!"

Then, after we'd all sat down again and were enjoying our coffee, we heard that incessant tapping on one's glass again. Seriously? This guy was going to try this AGAIN??? So we kept talking, figuring he could give a speech to his own chums, but we weren't going to give him the satisfaction of stopping everyone's conversation. But the glass tapping continued. We kept talking. Yet still the tapping continued, this guy wasn't giving up!!

So finally we quieted down, and the guy stood up and "on behalf of the guests" thanked the bartenders, the staff, and everyone all over again. We'd already done this! At this point I noticed a few of the senior club members picking up a seating chart to figure out who this chap was, and probably have a discussion with the member who brought him, to remind him that members are responsible for the behaviour of their guests!

Of course, it's funny what passes for acceptable behaviour at the club. As we were getting into our pudding and coffee, the portly chap across from me got so deep into his cups that he fell asleep, right at the table. It was comically funny, to the point where the staff weren't sure if they should disturb him to ask him if he wanted coffee, he was slumbering so soundly. But the funniest part was when I learned from my friend Doro that this chap had ASKED to sit across from me at dinner. So he'd sought out my company, and then had fallen asleep on me? Oh dear...

So after dinner, I made my way upstairs to the terrace, where I joined my friend Doro, Tamsin, and three other chaps, one of whom immediately caught my attention. His name was Paddy, he was a lawyer, and he was charming.

Our conversation started with a debate about what the difference was between manners and etiquette (spurred on by my stories of my dinner table conversation and the subsequent behaviour of the toasting guest), and then went on to cover a variety of topics. Nearly everything he talked about amused me, including the point where he started a story, and then chuckling to himself said, "No, it's definitely inappropriate to tell in mixed company. But let's say some friends and I were disrespectful to the Brandenburg Gate." I loved that, to have a slightly wicked sense of humour, but yet an awareness of what was appropriate in mixed company.

The Brandenburg Gate comment came up because we were all talking about Germany, and it turned out that most everyone at the table spoke German. Hence, a very handy skill to have!

The hour was growing late, and we could hear the bongs of Big Ben signalling that it was midnight. (Ah, how do I love that terrace, looking right out over Parliament!) And it was really the time for people to go home if they were going to make the last Tube. I'd previously decided to take a cab, but young Paddy lived too far away for that. Yet I could tell he was enjoying my company so much that he didn't want to leave, so he asked another friend of his at the table if he could stay with him.

So we all continued chatting and talking, and then the strangest thing happened: My friend Doro got up from where she was sitting, and went and sat in Paddy's lap. Kind of without provocation, it was all so unexpected, and almost like, "I see you two getting too interested in each other, so I'm going to put a stop to that."

It was particularly weird because earlier in the evening we'd established that we were both single, and to the best of my knowledge, Doro has a boyfriend (although to be fair, I haven't heard about him or seen him since April). And this was the sort of thing that I'd imagine boyfriends would definitely disapprove of. So what on earth was going on here? It was basically the female equivalent of a "c*ck-block", and an incredibly obvious one at that.

Anyway, I covered my surprise by turning my attention to another chap at the table who had asked me about iPads, and we got into a reasonably in-depth conversation about that. Hopefully I didn't look overly surprised at the sudden shift in events, but just kept talking through it...

At about a quarter-past 1 AM, one of the staff came up to tell us that the terrace was now closed. So we realised it was time to head on. The three of them all seemed keen to go to another bar, but now confused by the change in events, I decided to just grab a cab and head home. So I packed myself off into a cab, tumbled into bed, and wondered what on earth I'd missed about the evening.

The next morning, I was remembering how at one point in the conversation the previous evening, I can't remember how it came up, but he was guessing my age, and was saying, "Twenty? Twenty-one?" I just laughed and replied, "You're kind," treating it as an absolute joke. Then the next morning, I went onto Facebook to look up a bit more about him, and saw his birthdate: 1988. OMG, he was only 22! So I'll bet when he was guessing my age, he actually thought I was that young as well!!

So in the end, I realise what a fantastic friend my Doro is, as she basically prevented me from making a fool of myself with her strange and sudden manoeuvres. How funny, that even when it doesn't seem like it, your friends have your best interests at heart. Indeed, she e-mailed me later on that morning, and while she didn't mention the funny situation from the night before, it reminded me once again of what a dear friend she is. And obviously always looking out for me!